Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Archive for February, 2013

You stand akimbo, leather clad, the ultimate of femme and bad; and yet, I do not buy your sneer– it is too pained, too insincere. Despite your practiced flick of wrist, your polished stance, your high heeled twist… your tightened lips and narrowed eye are less sadistic than they’re wry.

Your subjugates kneel and present; of pleasure you show not a hint. They kiss your boots, they beg to please, your moue looks like you need to sneeze.

Oh Wielder of the Nine-Tailed Whip, perhaps it’s time you took a trip? Somewhere sans flogger, strap-on free, perhaps a nice pink bikini? Unwind those braids, let down your hair peel off the rubber underwear; unlace your corset, take a breath before you’re Mistressed half to death.

Share this:

Like this:

A 100WCGU is a challenge to write a 100 word story based on a prompt. This challenge is prompted by a photo of the Grand Canyon Skywalk in Arizona:

I slipped on the blue paper shoe covers, studiously avoiding downward glances as I stepped out on the glass bridge. No matter how many times I walked it, the same tugging sensation began in my gut, electric wires pulling taut in my limbs, zapping my head with the sensation of falling. An occupational hazard my nervous system protested. Go back, it said. Go back.

Today there was something different out there; somehow a coyote had gotten on the Skywalk and stood facing me, feet braced… grinning? My heart stuttered, stalled, and then accelerated. Suddenly, there was no glass at all.